


i'll dream you wide awake

by cardinal__sin



Category: Powerwolf (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Comfort/Angst, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, ask to tag???? i guess???, covid is a thing also, idk what else to tag here, vent fic, yeah those are the angst tags ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin/pseuds/cardinal__sin
Summary: You know that feeling when the bad builds up slowly over days and then suddenly it gets too much? Yeah, that.Set in the AU created by my darlingHandsOfGold, go check out her stuff because it's a-ma-zing. Also thanks for letting me borrow it, love.
Relationships: Roel van Helden/Matthew Greywolf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	i'll dream you wide awake

**Author's Note:**

> rated M for the angst and the suicidal things. also this is me projecting onto roel so pray for me or what shgkjdsfs

There’s the quiet, familiar jangle of keys in the lock, then the door swinging open with a whoosh. Matthew enters the apartment with his usual, timid little _hey_ , like he’s an uninvited guest or someone doing something wrong even though they bought the place together years ago. Roel forces himself to ignore his whole body screaming at him to go to Matthew, hug him, kiss him, ask him about his day.

He concentrates on the dishes. The water is hot, pristine white suds swimming on top of it, and he feels his skin burn every time he has to dunk his hand in to fish around for stray pieces of cutlery that might be hiding at the bottom of the sink. It’s painful but it’s distracting enough that he can stay there and ignore the hell out of his boyfriend.

He’s not mad at Matthew, far from it. He’s more relieved than anything to know he’s home again, the comfort of not being alone, of his warm presence, washing away some of the tension bunching up in his shoulders. But still, he can’t make himself face Matthew. He’s scared. He’s scared that if he allows himself that comfort of even looking at his beloved, the last of his resolve will crumble and he’ll never be the same again.

“Hey, honey,” Matthew chimes as he walks into the kitchen, now free of his mask and street clothes, hair thrown up in a messy bun, “everything alright?”

“Sure,” Roel replies curtly and turns his face in Matthew’s vague direction for the flash of a quick smile, careful not to actually look at the man. There’s a stray cheerio on the kitchen counter that proves to be an incredibly good distraction. The wonders of breakfast foods.

“You have a nice day?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” Matthew shrugs. There are crunching sounds after that, which means he found the apples Roel bought for him. Good. He needs more vitamin.

“Yours?”

“Fine,” Roel shrugs, and picks up another plate he absolutely needs to scrub right the fuck now. If he keeps scrubbing, he won’t cry. That’s what’s important.

Matthew is silent for a minute, just the crunching sounds of the apple and the splash of the water breaking the silence between them. Roel lets it stretch on. Maybe Matthew will leave to take a shower or something. Maybe in the next two and a half minutes. Yeah, that would be great. Then Roel could get a tissue and wipe at his eyes to make sure he hasn’t been crying and he’ll be able to suppress everything by the time Matthew is back.

“I’m not buying it,” Matthew pipes up, throwing a wrench in Roel’s careful plan, “you’re never this quiet. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” Roel replies. _Everything_ , he doesn’t say.

“Come ooon,” Matthew carries on, drawing out the last syllable, “don’t be grumpy, baby, you can tell me!”

He’s talking in this babying, cooing voice and actually, fuck crying. This is absolutely maddening and Roel can’t believe he has to deal with Matthew’s childish mind games as well as everything else going up shit’s creek , and he just doesn’t have the energy to deal with this right now and –

“Stop fucking _talking_!” Roel snarls, throwing the sponge and the spoon back into the sink. He hears something break and he can’t bring himself to care. He wipes his hands on a kitchen towel and storms out of there, slamming the bedroom door behind himself.

He pretends he could not see Matthew flinching back, face open and hurt and _lost_.

He doesn’t know how much time passes with him sitting on the ground with his back against the bedframe, nails digging into the sides of his thighs. He’s furious. With himself, with Matthew, with his fucking life. He wants to see it all burn.

But… Well. There’s always a but. Even with all his anger, he can’t get Matthew’s hurt face out of his mind. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Roel taking it out on him, especially because he didn’t even know what he did wrong. Not that he _did_ do anything wrong. Just cared.

Roel takes a deep breath and stands up.

Matthew is out in the kitchen, just finishing up the dishes. His shoulders are drawn up in a painfully familiar way, and Roel wants to kick his own ass for taking Matthew back to those days when every hour he managed to stay alive was both blessing and curse, when just a loud noise could make him jump and cower. If Roel walked back on years of progress with one fuckup… Well. He’s not sure he could live with himself.

“We should talk,” he says quietly, and Matthew’s shoulders relax momentarily as he turns around and nods. He’s not that Matthew anymore. It’s evident in his eyes. He won’t let himself get hurt again, he won’t lose himself again. Roel’s chest swells with pride and love. His darling had come _so far_.

“I’m sorry,” Roel starts with a sigh, and holds up a hand when he sees Matthew going to interject, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It was a dick move and you didn’t deserve me taking shit out on you. I haven’t been doing well, and… Today was bad, alright? And I couldn’t keep listening to you teasing me.”

He bites his lip and stares at Matthew, waiting for him to process it. Matthew’s eyes are wide as he pieces it together.

“It’s okay,” he says eventually, “I just…You always seem so… Well, you know? So –”

“Mentally stable?” Roel cuts him off with a bitter laugh, “you’re not the only one allowed to have a mental illness, Matthew.”

“I know that,” Matthew snaps, “and I wasn’t insinuating anything like that. Please don’t put words in my mouth, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t know because you never _said_ anything!”

“I got really good at suppressing it,” Roel shrugs, not meeting Matthew’s eyes.

“But… why?” Matthew sounds genuinely puzzled. “I would have been here for you. We all would have.”

“Because,” Roel sighs, “because you were doing so much worse, and you needed me. I needed to be alright for you, I needed you to have a stable presence in your life. But you’re doing so much better now! And you need that support less and less. And slipping gets easier and easier.”

Matthew looks at him with those innocent, brown eyes, and something in Roel just _breaks_. Everything comes flooding out of him, the anxiety, the stress, the isolation, the fear of the pandemic, the darkness that’s been growing in his soul for the better part of three decades and that is now threatening to cloud his world and taint it black forever. His hatred, his apathy, his complete and utter emptiness, the need to just be done with it all, to quit existing just so, from a blink of the eye to the other. Like he never even was there in the first place.

All he wants is someone to hold him and tell him it’s going to be okay, even if it’s a lie.

Matthew doesn’t pity him. He listens, and when Roel starts crying he does too, crystal droplets balancing at the very ends of his long lashes, rolling down freckled cheeks and kissing softly arched lips. He draws Roel close to him and winds his arms around him, and apologizes. He tells Roel how much he loves him and how sorry he is. He tells Roel it’s going to be okay.

It might be a lie.

But for a few moments there, in Matthew’s arms, Roel feels weightless, and he thinks _if existing can be like this, I don’t want it to ever stop_.

**Author's Note:**

> if you feel like hanging out check out [my other stories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin), leave kudos or a comment, don't forget to like and subscribe, and find me on [tumblr](https://cardinalxsin.tumblr.com/)/[ig](https://www.instagram.com/cardinalxsin/)/[twitter](https://twitter.com/cardinalxsin) as cardinalxsin :) also petition to get me to therapy. anyway, hope you have a nice day :)


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